Letters
by BubblePoppper
Summary: The Big Four have each gotten a letter, each one telling them the same thing: they can do magic and they need to go to a school called Hogwarts. But how will they react? RotBTD. Human!Jack. HogwartsAU (sort of)
1. Merida

"Merida, there's a letter for you!"

The words were spoken with careful articulation by the lady in the long green gown, her dark braids swinging down her back as she walked gracefully yet quickly to her daughter's room. Softly, she opened the door, poking her head through the small space she created. "Merida?"

No answer. The queen sighed as she pushed the door open further, noticing a lack of the scream: 'Mum!' and a whirl of fiery ginger locks. The thought of her unladylike daughter's reaction almost made her scowl. Queen Elinor leant her head against the smooth door frame, closing the door silently.

Annoyed, Elinor strode away from the doorway, heading out towards the stables. Surely Merida must be spending time with her new horse, Angus. When she should be studying, of all times.

Elinor shook her head. She had told him, King Fergus, not to get it for her, but he had not listened. There would be a time for a horse but now? Itwould only encourage her. It appeared to Elinor that the gift almost seem to praise her for not following her mother's way. That would need to change.

The queen pushed the door open to the outside and scattered the servants. She hurried past the stable — lacking its contents — and hurried to the fields. "Merida? Merida!"

"What?" Elinor was right. Of course she was riding on Angus. Without permission.

She said loudly (it was not shouting, shouting is unladylike), "I've been looking for you all over the place! What have you been doing?"

Her daughter rode towards her, frizzy red locks tumbling down her shoulders, pale blue eyes narrowing as she slowed her Clydendale horse down, noticing the queen's red cheeks. "I was ridin' Angus. I— I finished my lessons!"

"You need to ask me for permission before riding so you can have a suitable guardian," she started, trying to contain her anger. "But, I came to tell you that a letter has arrived. For you."

Merida's face lit up with excitement, as she dismounted and began to dance around her mother with joy. "Is i' really fer me? Are ye sure it's fer me? Just me?"

"Merida, stop all that bouncing, it's unladylike," the queen answered, frowning slightly as Merida meekly stopped. "Of course it is for you."

"Where is i'? I want ta see i'!"

Elinor smiled gently at her daughter's foolish innocence. "It is back at the castle, waiting for you on the table. Take Angus back first!" she reminded Merida, as the girl raced off to her home, neglecting the horse that had just been the object of her affection.

"Mum! It says I'm a witch! And I have ta go ta a special school called... Hogwarts?"

Elinor snatched the letter from her daughter's hands, brown eyes scanning the letter, fists clenching as the information absorbed. "Merida, this is just a very cleverly planned trick. There is no such thing as magic!"

The blue eyed girl rounded her eyes at her mother, curls falling over her face in the very manner Elinor had to nag her about. She was doing it on purpose, trying to get her mother so annoyed that she would unwittingly scream that Merida could go to Hogwarts and seal a deal that couldn't be undone.

But Elinor wasn't like that. Elinor liked to think rationally and plan things unlike her rather spontaneous daughter, who took after a certain king.

"Bu' Mum, I have ta go! It may be ma only chance I have ta see the world!"

Elinor was not convinced. She snapped, "You are a princess, Merida, and you are here to learn how to be one!"

Her daughter silenced, not used to her normally restrained mother shouting at her. "Please Mum, ah need to. Besides, I promise I'll do all my princess duties in the holidays."

It was desperate but it did it.

Queen Elinor paused and fully contemplated the matter. Normally, Merida did anything to not have to do her duties and lessons, preferring the wild outdoors and the thrill of the hunt to the endless hours spent memorising her ancestors, the kings and queens of Scotland. If Merida fully dedicated herself to her lessons, she would learn a lot more than she had done so in previous years, as she would be concentrating instead of sleeping, listening instead of staring out of the window, learning instead of yearning for the dangerous outdoors. Yes, it seemed like a fair deal.

"I'll think about it," she begun. The princess' face brightened. "But that doesn't mean it's a yes."

The red headed princess just nodded and smirked from beneath her curls as she watched her mother walk away. Elinor was definitely going to let her daughter go to Hogwarts. And Merida had every intention of making sure that actually happened.


	2. Rapunzel

Black curls shifting to a more elderly shade of grey, Mother Gothel entered the tower warily, hoping her little flower would be there to provide her with a little pick me up. Her crimson dress caught on an abandoned toy and the lady scowled angrily, kicking it out of the way into the shadows of the high tower.

"Mother?" a voice asked, the voice of her flower, the voice of her most beautiful child, Rapunzel. A young girl stepped out of the darkness, a train of long blonde hair trailing behind her. She held something in her hands but she quickly hid it, cupping her it within her delicate fingers.

Gothel put on a smile, brushing aside the strange behaviour, and hurried over to her, ignoring the creaking and aching in her bones as she hugged her precious girl. "It's always Mummy for you, my sweet."

"Yes, Mummy," answered the green eyed girl obediently but with a slight pout at the end. "Mum—"

Gothel interrupted, "Now dear, would you help me to the chair and sing a song to me? Mummy's very tired, flower."

Sighing, Rapunzel helped her mother out of her travelling cloak and assisted her to the comfy red chair in front of the fire, before pulling a rickety stool over to the place where Gothel sat. Heaving the girl's hair onto her lap, she accepted the dark red hairbrush Rapunzel handed her and slowly started to brush down the length of her daughter's hair. "Sing, now darling, sing my favourite song."

Rapunzel rolled her bright green eyes but willingly obliged, her childish voice sounding too happy for the melancholic melody. "Flower, gleam and glow, let your power shine, make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine. Heal what has been hurt, change the fates' design, save what has been lost, bring back what once was mine. What once was mine."

Smiling, Gothel sighed as she felt her wrinkled skin tighten and her hair ripple into a cascading wave of pure black, only achieved by the strongest magic. Secretly admiring her now perfectly smooth unblemished hand, she leaned back into the chair, basking in the glow of youth and health her daughter had unknowingly gifted to her.

"Mother—"

"Mummy is fine dear but Mother makes me feel so old," Gothel cried melodramatically, sweeping her hand across her forehead as the blonde girl giggled, stuffing her fingers into her mouth.

"Yes, well Mummy—"

"Rapunzel, are you mumbling? You know how much I hate mumbling; you see, this is why I don't let you out of the tower." Rapunzel's face fell, her bottom lip sticking out slightly. Gothel laughed brightly. "Don't you worry, my flower, now what do you want to tell me?"

Warily, the girl started again. "Well, I've got two things to tell you. First of all, well, it's my eleventh birthday!"

"Is it now? I didn't know." Once again, Rapunzel's face fell, her eyes flashing with a strange emotion at her mother. "Oh, stop it, I'm only teasing, darling! Here you go!"

Grabbing the heavily gift wrapped box Gothel handed her eagerly, the excited girl ripped the shiny packaging open, before carefully lifting the lid off the small box. Inside it she was welcomed with the view of a small lizard, that darted into the corner of the box as she opened it, it's scales suddenly flicking to the same dark brown of the box.

"A chameleon!" Rapunzel shrieked with happiness, grabbing it by it's tightly curled tail and lifting it into the air, still upside down. "I'm going to call it... Pascal!"

Gothel smiled as she begun to play with it, giggling as it swiftly changed colour. "Now dear, what was the other thing you wanted to tell me?"

"This," Rapunzel answered distractedly, still focused on the little reptile, handing her an open yellowed envelope and a letter, green ink spread neatly across the page. Normally, Gothel would have scolded her for opening it without her permission but as Rapunzel looked so happy, she let it go.

But as she started to read it, her jaw dropped and her fists clenched. Hogwarts, wanting her little flower? After all the work she had spent hiding her, they still found Rapunzel? Gothel shaked with fury, suddenly hoping Rapunzel hadn't read it as she balled it up in her fist, preparing to toss it into the fire.

"Moth — Mummy? Can I go?"

Gothel turned angrily, snapping before she was even aware of what she was doing. "No, you shall not go. The outside world is dangerous, too dangerous. My dear."

She was about to throw the old parchment into the roaring fire when she heard a soft sob and sniff from behind her. Rapunzel. "What is it now, Rapunzel?" she groaned, turning back round to the blonde girl who stood with her head bowed, chameleon perching forgotten on her shoulder.

"I... I really want to go Mummy. Please! I want to lear — learn magic." She watched Gothel through teary red eyes, blinking every so often so a tear would roll down her pink cheeks. Green eyes watched Gothel, waiting for the second her mind changed and she allowed the girl to go.

Gothel sighed. She didn't like to see her flower upset but she couldn't let Rapunzel go. "No deary, bad men will try to steal your hair."

Rapunzel was not convinced. Gothel could tell by the determined look on her face, the way she straightened up and stuck her bottom lip out a little further.

"I'm going, Mother, whether you like it or not." Her jaw was set and her eyes were determined. It was too adorable. The old lady gave in.

"Fine dear," she sighed. "But don't blame me when you get kidnapped."


	3. Hiccup

It had arrived. Stoick stared dumbly at the letter before tearing it open eagerly, needing to find out if his son did actually get into this magical school called Hogwarts, the only way he may reach his potential, if he was going to reach any at all. Hiccup's mother, Valhallarama (more commonly known as Valka), had been a witch as well, informing Stoick before she had been abducted, and had warned him that something of that sort may happen.

* * *

 _"One day, after our child has turned eleven, they may get a special letter, telling them that they can go to a school called...Hogwarts." Stoick looked down at his wife, heavy red eyebrows rising in surprise._

 _"What do ye mean, a school?"_

 _Valka smiled softly, resting her left hand onto her ever growing baby bump; it was to be due in several months maybe, around February or March, and they were still deciding on names. But now, she had to tell Stoick something very important. And the fact that it may affect their unborn child._

 _"As you know, I'm a witch." She calmly waited for his response, rubbing circles on her distended belly._

 _"Yeah?"_

 _"And as the magic gene is dominant, it's highly likely that our child will also be magical, like me."_

 _He slowly echoed, "Like ye."_

 _She nodded patiently, lacing his fingers with hers, and watching them curiously; whilst her fingers were long and thin, her husband's were thicker and stubbier, the skin rough and cracked. Privately, she hoped their child would have her hands, elegant and artistic hands rather than the hands her oaf of a husband possessed. That would be nice, she thought dreamily._

 _"Wa are ye tellin' me this?" he asked, pressing his palm slightly harder against hers, his eyebrows dropping further over his greeny blue eyes as he contemplated her possible answer. She shrugged, not looking up at him, more focused on their hands twisting together._

 _Stoick didn't appear convinced. "But wa now? Wa not la'er on? The child hasn' bin born ye'."_

 _Valka dropped her hand, untwining their fingers gently. "Something tells me that I need to tell you. And it's better sooner than never!" she added brightly, smiling as she stroked his thick beard. Stoick looked at her, his worry evident in his eyes. "I still think Hiccup would be a lovely boy's name and Thora if they're a girl," she started cheekily, green eyes challenging him as she tucked her light brown hair behind her ear, as if preparing herself for a battle._

 _"Naw, ah woul' go for Stoick Junior or Valhallarama Junior," he smiled back to her, relieved that she had finally changed the subject. But Stoick could never forget the look of sadness in his wife's eyes as they started to discuss names. Not even he could predict the future. Little known was that Valka could._

"Son? Hiccup?" he called, stumbling through the wooden house to his son's room. Hurriedly, he pounded on the door, before pushing it open, ignoring the fact his awkward heir may be in there. "Hiccup, ah've got something ta tell ye!"

A slim boy looked up at him from the messy desk, green eyes appearing faintly annoyed at the obvious intrusion to his privacy. He sighed, swivelling around on his seat so he faced Stoick better, adopting a more relaxed posture as he waited expectantly for him to speak. "Well?"

"Ye're going ta Hogwarts!" Stoick announced proudly, clapping Hiccup on the back with as little force as he could; Hiccup had always been a weak child, ever since the day he had been born. In fact, Hiccup had always been different: more interested in knowledge than killing, slim compared to the others' heavy builds, unable to use weapons, weak, the list went on — but at least he had a healthy mindset. To kill a dragon is to gain honour. Yes, a strange child.

"Maybe it would help if I know what Hogwarts is first," Hiccup pointed out sarcastically, rolling his eyes at his father with the air of a wise man stuck with idiots. Stoick clenched his jaw and refused to let a tear come to his eye, acknowledging that it was going to be a long night.

Hiccup was painfully like his mother.

* * *

 _"Congratulations, Valka, you have given birth to a healthy son," declared the doctor warily, catching Stoick's eye through the open doorway. An hour beforehand, the Viking chief decided it was too much for him to see his wife in pain, so had stood outside, listening to all the action, listening to her heavy breaths and the occasional gut-wrenching scream, listening to the comforting of the wise woman, all the while longing to go in again but afraid of the sight he might be confronted with._

 _He was not scared of the blood. He was scared of the weakness he might show._

 _Stoick slowly walked in, feeling his face crack into a grin at her gentle smile down to the child, who had finally been calmed down and was sleeping peacefully. "He's so beautiful," she murmured as he knelt down next to her. "He's all I could have ever wanted."_

 _"Aye," answered Stoick dully, gently laying a hand on the head of his newborn son, barely ten minutes old. "Wha' is his name?"_

 _"Hiccup," she replied, panting slightly. "Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. HHH. Our baby. Be good to him," she urged suddenly, gripping his arm with sudden force. "Promise me you'll be very good to him."_

 _He quickly stammered, "Ah—ah will. Ah promise."_

 _Valka smiled in relief, giggling when Hiccup opened his eyes for the first time without screaming. "Hello Hiccup!" she whispered happily, holding out her finger to stroke his fat cheeks before turning to Stoick and sighing, "He has your nose."_

 _"Aye bu' he has yer eyes," he responded, stroking the downy hair of the newborn. Something was wrong with Valka and he wanted to know what it was._

* * *

"So, um, I'm magic." Stoick nodded, full of fatherly pride. Yes, his son was magic. Hiccup was magic. Nobody could believe it. Not even Gobber, who always was on the weakling's side, could believe that this boy actually had some potential. "And how do you know it's not a hoax?"

"Yer mum warned mah tha' this may 'appen."

"What? Mum was...was magic?"

"Aye, son," Stoick declared, patting him on the back again, harder this time so his son fell off the rickety stool he had been sitting on. "Ain't yer happy?"

His son frowned, looking slightly nervous. He scratched his head awkwardly, looking anywhere but Stoick, who stood in front of him like a statue, waiting for the reply. "Is this a prank?"

"A prank?" Roaring in laughter, he slapped his knee, wiping a tear from his eye. "Mah boy, wha' makes ye think this is a joke?"

Looking faintly annoyed, Hiccup crossed his arms, setting his jaw determinedly. "Snotlout always does this."

Hugging him, Stoick lifted Hiccup off the floor, ignoring what Hiccup had just said. "Ye're just like yer mum," he whispered into the boy's ear before hurrying away, trying to stop the tears from falling.

* * *

 _She was gone. Stoick screamed into the night, unaware of his own son bawling behind him, only aware of the fact that his beautiful Valka was gone. The bedroom was in shambles, a stray axe dropped on the floorboards between Hiccup's cradle and a wooden dragon model._

 _If Valka had been here, she would have screamed that the child's room was no place for weapons, before scooping Hiccup out of harm's way. But Valka was not there, so the axe remained, its gleam in the light of the numerous house fires mocking him._

 _"We cannae fin' 'er. It's awreddy gain!"_

 _Gobber's shout snapped Stoick back to the real world, and he hung out of the window frame, staring at the havoc caused by the dragons._

 _It was always the dragons._

 _Stoick heaved himself back inside his home, picking up Hiccup as he cried his throat raw. Poor child, never knowing his mother who had been taken away by dragons. A dragon which had wounded him, jurging by the cut on the child's chin._

 _What more could the dragons take? They had taken the safety of his home, the lives of his citizens and the mother of his child. Enough was enough._

 _As he rocked Hiccup to sleep, Stoick swore that he would never let dragons touch his village ever again._


End file.
